


All I Want Is...

by VerdantMoth



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Genderfluid Character, M/M, Make Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-08-23 17:46:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16623572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerdantMoth/pseuds/VerdantMoth
Summary: Merlin didn’t mean to get caught. He had Arthur’s schedule down to the minute: how long it took him to get his things packed up with he got off work. How many minutes it took him to walk from his office, to the building’s front door; from the front door to the entrance of the subway. From the entrance to the car to the exit to their corner, to the door of their building, up the three flights of steps and down the hall to their door.





	All I Want Is...

Merlin didn’t mean to get caught. He had Arthur’s schedule down to the minute: how long it took him to get his things packed up with he got off work. How many minutes it took him to walk from his office, to the building’s front door; from the front door to the entrance of the subway. From the entrance to the car to the exit to their corner, to the door of their building, up the three flights of steps and down the hall to their door.

He knew on Tuesdays it took seventeen minutes longer than any other day, because the cafe had a special on bakery items. He knew Mondays were the quickest, and Fridays were a gamble because Arthur sometimes liked to stop at the market if they had a special.

Wednesdays and Thursdays were consistent though, and he’d _never_ been wrong in his prediction of when Arthur would come in. Which is why he finds himself staring, a little baffled, at his fiance. “You’re home.”

Arthur rolls his eyes and gentle hip checks Merlin out of the way so he can drop his case on the bed. “You could sound a little less disappointed about that, babe.”

Merlin nods absently, tracking Arthur ’s movement as he moves about the room, following his routine of jacket to arm chair, tie to dresser, shoes to closet. “I was thinking of making the lemon curry fish your mum showed us for dinner.”

“Yeah. That’s,” Merlin’s brows furrow as Arthur  walks past him, planting a gentle kiss against his temple as he moves to the bathroom to turn the music Merlin had left playing down.

“Merlin?” Arthur sticks his head out. “You okay with that plan?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

Arthur grins at him. “Perfect. I’ll go start now if you’re ready?”

All Merlin can do is nod at Arthur’s back.

He stands for a moment in their bedroom, just staring at the empty space Arthur left behind, and then he heads into the bathroom. The lights are bright, cascading off the shimmer on his cheeks, the sequins of his top. He quietly begins to pick up the brushes he had scattered across the sink, placing them in their bag under the sink. He wipes the spilled foundation up, puts the cap on the burgundy lipstick, and puts the cover back on the eyeshadow palette. And then he just stands there for a long time studying his reflection.

It took him years of practice to figure out how to trace his cheeks, how to cut his eyeliner. Years of careful timing, of hiding supplies, and shoving change into a shoebox. He’s gotten good, _really good_ , at it, but it’s always been his secret.

He changes out of the silk shorts and the top, into some of Arthur ’s sweats that are a little too long and an old band tee-shirt. Part of him wants to hide in here, to curl up under the quilt until he’s asleep. Until Arthur leaves for work tomorrow.

Merlin knows though, that running only last so long. So he sucks in a deep breath and squares his shoulders before turning on his heel and following the smell of dinner.

Arthur  hears him coming. He’s already go something simmering on the stove so he points in the direction of the counter. “Chop the carrots and potatoes?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“And try not to leave them in such giant chunks this time?”

Merlin scoffs at him, but watches hsi slices carefully. They work in silence for several minutes moving around each other with practiced ease. Merlin sets the table and Arthur  preps a quick salad, and then they’re sitting at the table. Arthur bows his head, says a quick prayer for his own food because Merlin doesn’t do the God thing.

“So. Do you want to talk about it?”

Merlin drops his fork, curry sauce splattering across the glass top. “Do we have too?”

Arthur looks at him for a moment, then returns to his food. “No, not necessarily. But you seem tense and I think it’s probably something we should deal with now.”

Merlin moves carrots around on his plate, tracking the pattern the yellow sauce makes on the blue dish. “It’s not like, a regular thing, or anything.”

Arthur doesn’t respond. He just takes a sip of his water, and then reaches for more salad.

“I mean, I’m not…” Merlin pauses, struggling to find the words. He wants to say _I’m not a girl._ Wants to assure Arthur he is every bit the man he fell in love with.

“I don’t mind it, you know. That’s why I’ve never said anything before.” Arthur glances up at him and offers him a small smile. “Oh come on Merlin. You’re not exactly the best at cleaning up after yourself. Also, we share a closet?”

“I shoved them in the back, though.” Merlin mumbles.

Arthur  rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but you also frequently shove dirty towels and sweaty socks in the back too.”

Merlin grumbles, but he can’t deny the validity of the statements. They both sink into their own thoughts for a while, just listening to the scrape of the forks against the plates. Arthur  lets him ponder until they’ve finished. “It’s a good look. A little dark on the lips, but I could get used to it.”

“How long have you known?” Merlin can feel the heat rushing up the back of his neck.

Arthur tilts his head as he thinks and Merlin can see him doing the math. “Dunno. Probably a couple of months after we moved in together? Right after GWayne threw the big Halloween party. I’d found some stuff before that, but I’d kind of assumed it was for the party. And then we did the couples costume and you didn’t use any of it. I kind of put it together after that.”

“And you never said anything?” Merlin can’t help the incredulity in his voice.

Arthur looks at him with the same confusion he reserves for complex X-men timelines. “No? I figured when you were ready you’d talk to me about it?”

“And if I never had? Talked to you about it?”  Merlin’s temper is rising, irrational anger curling over his shoulders.

“Then that would have been that. It’s your life, Merlin. You get to choose how to live it, how much of it to share. If this was something you felt the need to keep private, then it’s not really my business.”

Merlin shakes his head and grabs his plate and cup. “That’s bullshit, Arthur. You don’t keep secrets like that and make a relationship work.”

Arthur follows suit, collecting his own things and dumping them in the sink. He leans against the edge as Merlin turns the water on. “And yet, here we are.”

“Doesn’t it bother you though?” He pours too much soap into the water, watches the bubbles build.

“Should it?”  

Most of the time, Merlin loves how steadfast Arthur is. But in moments like this, he just needs Arthur to get angry with him. Get aggressive, get loud. Be something _more_ than the gentle rock at his side. “I’m not the man you fell in love with, Arthur.”  He begins scrubbing angrily at their plates, suds spilling over the edge, soaking him. “I’m not-” He sucks in a breath and scrubs harder. “It’s not like I’m a girl, though. Not exactly. I’m just, not always a guy either. I’m…” He chews his lips a little, struggling to put into words the strange feeling he’s always lived with.

Arthur gentle pushes him away and buries his own hands in the warm, soapy mess Merlin has created. He grabs a few dishes and switches the faucet to the other sink so he can rinse them, before grabbing the dish towel.

“Sometimes, Arthur. I feel like I’m in the middle. I’m not a male but I’m not a female. Sometimes I like being rugged and sweaty and sometimes I like being soft and dainty. Sometimes I don’t want to be either.”

Arthur flicks his eyes towards his fiance. “Those are the days you stick to my sweats and a soft sweater? Leave your hair untamed?”

Merlin nods. He finishes the last of the dishes and then begins the process of rinsing the sink out, watching the suds swirl down the drain.

“I didn’t fall in love with your gender, Merlin. I feel in love with you.” Arthur says it so simply while drying the last of the dishes. Like it’s the most basic truth. Like this isn’t groundbreaking, earth shattering news.

Merlin can feel tears welling up in his eyes, the same irrational anger as earlier trying to bubble up. Arthur senses his mood and he steps behind him, wraps his arms around his waist and resting his chin on his shoulder. “So sometimes you like a little lipstick and lace? So what if other days you wanna wear leather and a beard? Who cares if some days you wanna do both? You’re still the guy who leaves his towels on the floor and makes the best grilled cheeses. You’re still the published poet who brings home gardenias instead of roses because ‘they’re tacky and they stink.’ Merlin, if I’d wanted someone who was traditional, who was stead fast and average, who fit every expectation and was completely normal, I’d never have left Gwen.”

Merlin turns as best he can in the embrace. He grimaces slightly at the damp edge of the sink, but he takes a moment to bury his head in Arthur’s blond locks, wrap his arms around his neck.

“All I want, Merlin. Every morning, every evening, every moment I can, is you. However you come.” Arthur  ltilts his head up, pulls back so he can see Merlin properly. He brushes a thumb over Merlin’s lips, wrinkles his nose as it comes away stained, but leans in and kiss him. “All I have ever wanted is you.”

Merlin smiles against his lips. “And I you.”

 


End file.
